Windstorm and the tree

Firm I stood, head held high,
Many a nest on my brow,
Swaying softly to the lingering song,
Of the little bird on my bough

Green, so green, my bright shimmer,
Cool shade to soothe the day,
Squirrels that scurry up on my sides,
Stowing their nuts away

But an ill wind raged in the night,
Tnat blew no one any good,
And now I am on the way to warm,
Some cold home as firewood